


Don't Leave Me

by moripartylove



Category: Pride (2014)
Genre: Funeral, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, just a little drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 07:31:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13336410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moripartylove/pseuds/moripartylove
Summary: Jonathan and Gethin at Mark's funeral.





	Don't Leave Me

The frozen ground crunches under Jonathan’s feet. He places his steps carefully, immersing himself in the soothing repetition of the sound. They walk in silence, away from the subdued conversation of friends and strangers, until they are alone among snow covered gravestones and bare skeletons of trees.

Gethin turns his head to look at him, squinting slightly against the too white sky and snow all around them. He reaches for Jonathan’s hand. Jonathan takes it unhesitatingly, rather defying the cold February air together with Gethin than keeping his hands warm in his coat pockets alone any longer.

„It was a beautiful service.” It is Gethin who finally speaks, because they can’t remain silent forever. And when Jonathan doesn’t answer: “So many people…”

Jonathan shakes his head and furrows his brow. „I still can’t believe how fast it happened. Two months ago he seemed fine and now…” He studies the ground, scooping up bits of snow with the tips of his shoes as he walks.

“I saw Mark’s mum at the funeral”, Gethin says. “She couldn’t stop crying. I can’t even imagine what she…”

His voice trails off. He stops walking and lets go of Jonathan, covering his face with both hands and shaking his head as if to negate a horrible lie someone just told him. Then he lowers his hands, letting his shoulders drop, and tries to blink away the tears.

“Don’t leave me.”

He’s breathing out the words as if they are too heavy for his voice to carry. Jonathan embraces him. Gethin sobs against his chest and Jonathan just holds him tighter, lacking words that would make everything okay and not feel like a lie.

Behind them, the bony outlines of trees seem almost black against the bright sky. Suddenly death seems to be everywhere. Jonathan shivers.

“Let’s go home. A nice cup of tea for you and a spliff for me, how does that sound?”

Lifting his head, Gethin rolls his eyes at him but smiles in spite of himself.

“Jonathan…”

“Alright alright, I’ll have a cup of tea, too. Better?”

“Better.”

As Gethin reclaims Jonathan’s hand, a flock of sparrows descends upon one of the nearest trees. Jonathan knows it’s silly, but it looks like they are watching them, tilting their heads and following their path out of the graveyard, into life.


End file.
